


Giving Life to Flowers (and Other Green Things)

by shinodabear



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Teambuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-07
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-09 09:34:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinodabear/pseuds/shinodabear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce likes the quiet space of Central Park's East Green. He also likes the branches and blooms, out of which he creates arrangements for the communal spaces in Avengers Tower. He keeps himself quiet and keeps himself away, but the team isn't having that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Giving Life to Flowers (and Other Green Things)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daphnie_1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnie_1/gifts).



Bruce likes spending time outdoors. He likes the feeling of the sun on his skin, the scent of the flowers in bloom, the gentle buzz of the insects and humans as they both busy along in their day. He appreciates the anonymity the etiquette of the city space gives him. No one knows who he is, even if the Other Guy is a household name. People like looking at pictures of the monster more than they like looking at the man. That guy sells more toys, Bruce tells himself when he is flippant. That guy saved Iron Man, Bruce reasons when he's feeling more optimistic about the world. 

He likes the open space of Central Park's East Green best. He can see people coming, for one, although he suspects the paranoia is still a holdover from years of being on the run. He spends his time there reading, meditating, or finishing the latest project Stark Industries' R&D Department cautiously has assigned him. It's ironic, Bruce knows, that his private haven is a public park, but he knows too that he's not the only one. There's a bench in MoMa that practically has Steve's name on it and Natasha loses herself in a crowd. The park gives him pleasure, and more than that it allows him to give back.

Bruce collects windfallen branches from the cherry trees, and from the magnolias and crabapples. He takes them home and sorts through them, arranging each kind in a row from most interesting to most mundane. He finds a shallow dish or a tall vase and he begins to arrange then. He spent a year and a half in Japan (with no incidents) and while there he learned the art of ikebana. He'd been attracted to its promises of a centered mind, access to the inner calm. When one was arranging flowers, there could be no space in the mind for anything else; it was just the hands and the flora. Every move one made was a move that must be considered. One must listen to the plants, consider the natural flow of positive and negative space. It has a calming effect on him, and leaves behind a piece of beauty to be shared. 

Bruce enjoys taking the time to think and center himself, to consider ever petal on every blossom, every stick and leaf. He likes the mathematics behind the primary, secondary, and ornamental, figuring out the balance between the angles and ratios. He likes the option of forgetting everything he learned and just sticking his floral finds in vases without thought. 

He leaves his creations in communal spaces, on tables and sideboards, by the coffeemaker or the television. They make everyone pause to consider them, and most everyone smile. Natasha appreciates them the most, and he is thankful that can give her something to love rather than fear. 

When autumn sets in and begins its death march over the greenery, Bruce finds an address saved to his phone. It's the name of a florist, independently owned by a kind old couple from Japan. It's tucked away in the East Village. They greet him warmly in Japanese when he enters and Bruce converses back as best he can. His pieces become more exotic, grander only in the kinds of flowers he has available to him. It's still the simple, peaceful exercise it always was; only this time it's twenty minutes' ride in the subway or ten minutes in one of Tony's cars if he's not up to the crowd (which is usually the case.) When he arrives back, he leaves behind color to dispel the gray winter blues. 

The first time he receives any sort of acknowledged thanks is that Christmas. They have a Secret Santa. He makes Natasha a black orchid and red ginger _nagiere_ cascading arrangement and relishes her gratitude (Tony traded him for Steve because, in Tony's words, "If I insult her with something girly – and I know I will, even if I'm not trying – she's going to flay me alive." Tony then proceeded to trade Thor for whoever he had because "Oh hell no, not Rogers. I'm allergic.")

Bruce's gift comes from Steve. There's no mistaking the pencil lines. On a single piece of thick, cream paper is a sketch of Bruce arranging what was to become Natasha's present. Bruce remembers Steve being in the room, asking if he could watch Bruce at his art. They'd spoken lightly of what to get for the person who wanted for nothing; Bruce had assumed Steve had pulled Tony's name. He remembers his answer clearly: "A man can't want what he doesn't know he has. Simply because a man has no want doesn't mean he lacks need. You give him what he couldn't possibly think of to get himself." 

There is love in the pencil lines. Upon further inspection, Bruce sees the flowers in his hands, different from the ones he used in Natasha's arrangement, for what they are: representations of the team. 

"You, uh, do a lot for all of us," Steve explains from his seat on the floor, slightly self-conscious at Bruce's scrutiny of the gift. "You have such kindness and warmth. You don't see your face when you're at peace with the flowers. You . . . You should have a little of that with yourself. You should look like that all the time."

He knows that Steve did not confuse his pencils when he shaded Bruce's hands in green – and that it's not a play on a gardener's green thumb. 

"We're all grateful for your presence, Dr. Banner. Thank you for being part of the team." 

Bruce touches the modest signature in the corner. "Thank you for having me here," he says, smiles. If he's more interactive with the team than usual after that, no one makes a comment. Except Tony, but Tony wouldn't be Tony without the final word. 

"Now will you enjoy yourself?" he asks after everyone has retired to bed. 

"The Other Guy enjoys smashing things. Is Metal-Man all right with Hulk smashing his things?"

Tony shrugs. "I'll build him a smashing place where he can get his freak on. No problem. So long as Bruce enjoys himself, too, _capice_?"

Bruce is a quiet man by necessity. He is a loner, a lover of solitude and introspection. But now he is on a team and he has responsibilities. He thought one of those responsibilities was to reel in the Other Guy until necessary. So Bruce was a quiet man who always quietly seethed in anger. He can't let go of that anger, the Other Guy won't let him, but he can let go. He can be at peace among a crowd of more than just flowers. 

"The peony stands for masculinity and bravery," Bruce says. Tony looks at him blankly, as Bruce knew he would. "The flowers," he elaborates. "Steve drew you as a peony. In China, they symbolize prosperity and honor." He waits until Tony raises a glass to his lips before adding, "And a happy marriage." 

He laughs himself out of the room as Tony sprays club soda all over himself. He's beginning to enjoy this already.

**Author's Note:**

> All I know of ikebana I learned from the internet in a quick research sessions. I tried to keep it general to avoid glaring errors, but if I did make a mistake I apologize and welcome corrections.


End file.
